


Quintessential Astrometrics

by tari_roo



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Hurt John Sheppard, Hurt/Comfort, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-01
Updated: 2011-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:17:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tari_roo/pseuds/tari_roo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> Lost in a maze? Check. Injured teammate? Check. Weird ancient or alien device trying to kill them? Check check.  Added bonus: frisky wildlife? Hell, yes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quintessential Astrometrics

  


Quintessential Astrometrics

Author: Tari_roo

Rating: PG

Fandom: SGA

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I profit from nothing. But if I did... there would have been an episode on a world with dragons and huge robots (same planet)  J

Written for the Sheppard H/C fic exchange for [](http://tridget.livejournal.com/profile)[**tridget**](http://tridget.livejournal.com/)  . Prompt at the end. 

Summary: Lost in a maze? Check. Injured teammate? Check. Weird ancient or alien device trying to kill them? Check check.  Added bonus: frisky wildlife? Hell, yes.

Warning: None. 

Spoilers: SGA none really

*sga*sga*

Quintessence: the purest or most perfect example of something

*sga*sga*

It was just that side of being overwarm, the sun a little too fierce, the convention effect in the close quarters of the canyon tipping the scales from pleasant into ‘eugh – too much’. Luckily it was a dry heat and there was an odd breeze through the narrow passages of the towering pillars, and of course the odd pool of shade, but on the whole, it wasn’t an ideal time or place to be lost. Especially not in a moving maze of rotating pillars determined to keep them lost forever!

“McKay.”

Or to be totting around an injured moron who thinks he’s a mutant mountain goat with Batman aspirations.

“McKay!”

Ok, so he wasn’t doing the totting around of said wounded team leader and was in fact in charge of getting them out of this confounded mobile maze, but nonetheless, the burdens of responsibility and leadership seemed to fall with regularity on his ample and brilliant shoulders.

“Rodney!”

“Yelling at me isn’t going to make this go any faster!” Rodney whirled around, still clutching the LSD and glared at Ronon, and by default Sheppard, who was sagging next to the big lug, one arm draped over his brutish shoulders. Fine, brutish was unfair. Overly muscled and leather bound, happy?

Ronon though, was returning the glare, death ray to death ray, and pointed up at Teyla. Who was standing on one of the damn moving pillars!

“Are you insane, Teyla? Get down, now!” Rodney screamed, rushing over, hands flapping at both Ronon and Sheppard and of course at Teyla, high above them on the slowly moving stone column. Legs braced in a surfer stance, hair streaming behind her like some slow motion special effect, Teyla shouted down to the gaping men below. Well, only Rodney was gaping. Ronon was grinning in maniacal glee, as usual, and Sheppard was squinting up at her in envious jealousy either at her prowess in staying put where he had failed, or at her ability to make Rodney grey before his time.

“Hold on, I’m nearly done!”

“Surely the ass over face tumble our fearless, hair brained leader just demonstrated is reason enough not to climb that, Telya!” Rodney yelled, pointing at Sheppard just in case Teyla had lost her mind or memory (hey, weirder crap has happened on missions, okay) and forgotten who Sheppard was, or his spectacular dive off a column twenty minutes ago.

Eyes forward, her face set and determined, Teyla deigned to look down at them and called out instead, “The maze appears to be shifting in a uniform direction, Rodney, but the pillars are moving at different speeds and angles.” She pointed to her left, showing the general direction of the maze and then yelled, “The Gate hasn’t moved which is a good thing, yes?”

Looking in the direction of the unseen Gate, McKay nodded, and glanced down at the LSD he was trying to convince to behave like a GPS. “Yeah, yeah, a fixed point is easier to find, I hope.” Looking up, squinting at the sun as the pillar moved forwards and the giant ball of light pierced his eyes, McKay shouted, “That’s great, Teyla. Now please come down.”

Stubbornly, Teyla watched the rotating, moving, diabolical maze of doom, okay so maze of doom was a little premature for a nondeplume, but McKay was nothing if not pessimistic about these situations. For all they knew the slowly moving pillars were a prelude to cunning primitive traps, giant rolling boulders and spider infestations – mutant, giant, alien, indestructible spiders! Finally finished with her slow motion daredevil ride, Teyla began a careful descent down the pillar, its pitted surface hopefully providing sufficient handholds and crevices. There was a moment of heart stopping terror when she nearly slipped and Rodney felt his stomach try beat his heart to his throat, but Teyla recovered quickly. Ordering his internal organs back to their rightful places, like the disobedient minions that they were, McKay closed his eyes for the last little bit.

Feeling a little like he’d made the climb and descent himself, Rodney breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Teyla drop the last foot, her tac vest rattling with the motion. Resisting the urge to rush over and hug her, and wondering if he was coming down with something because his heart was beating way too fast, McKay snarled, “Please refrain from doing that again, Teyla.”

Smiling at him, even though her eyes tracked Sheppard’s absent stare, Teyla nodded, “Only if it’s necessary, Rodney.” Sheppard was staring at his hand like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. And no doubt in his currently addled mind it was the Deathstar battling the Enterprise in a blow by blow death match. Ronon, getting tired of the round of the worried looks directed at Sheppard and shared with each other, grunted, “Anytime today.”

“Right,” Rodney snapped, “Right, ah ... that way!” He pointed through a newly opened corridor that lead in the general direction of the Gate. For now that was. Ronon hefted Sheppard a little closer and more upright, which elicited a, “Bumblebees can’t actually fly you know, they’re telepaths with levitation abilities,“ from their erstwhile leader. 

“Sure, sure, and frogs actually hum as you boil them alive, come on,” McKay strode off, eyes on the LSD and rotating pillars alternatively, which yes, was giving him a headache and no, the sun wasn’t helping.

It was kinda cool though that the pillars were moving in almost silence, the odd scrap of stone on metal and metal on moving part was all that could be heard besides their breathing and Sheppard’s rambling. Whoever had built this place, maze, whatever, had done a good job with the actual mechanics. It was just a pity it made no friggin sense yet! A trap designed to keep the idiots who turned it on lost? A fun filled day of amusement for the mentally deranged – come see our revolving maze of doom. It’s to die for!

“Perhaps if we can find the cliff wall again, we could follow it back to the staircase?” Teyla suggested, her voice cracked and a little dry. Ronon grunted in agreement and Sheppard waved at someone only he could see, smiling happily. “Joy, Steve... how nice to see you...”

Rodney nodded, absently trying to plot the moving columns into the LSD, and his tablet, and somehow predict their movements. “Sure, sure, and maybe once we find it, we can stand around and wait to get crushed by the next random pillar.”

“There is no need to be sarcastic, Rodney.” Teyla sounded tired as well, and McKay shot her a sheepish look in apology and offered by way of explanation for his mood, “Good idea in principle, but we don’t want to get caught between a moving rock and a hard place. Especially with Jim Bob Sheppard over there.”

Ronon had propped Sheppard against a momentarily stationary pillar while he took of his leather jacket. The big guy was looking decidedly red in the face, and his dreads were actually damp with sweat. Grimacing at the thought of damp stringy hair, Rodney wiped his own perspiring forehead and watched Sheppard sing softly to the pillar, hands running over its jutted surface slowly. “Does he seem more scrambled than a concussion should account for, even for Sheppard?”

Teyla loosened her tac vest and took a small sip of water before replying, “I believe so. Perhaps there was more to his fall than simply activating the moving maze.”

“Great, so besides a giant goose egg on his head, broken ribs, possible internal bleeding and a sprained ankle and or knee because he couldn’t figure out which hurt more, we have possible alien technology messing with his hairy noggin,” Rodney sighed. His water canteen was too light to risk another sip and there was no way in hell he was going to share a canteen with Ronon McBackwash. The lug probably did that on purpose just to avoid having to share.

“Noggin?” Teyla smiled, and Rodney grunted. “I’m sure you can figure it out.” Her smile was wider, brighter and for a second, things felt ok. But then Sheppard launched into a rendition of _Twinkle Twinkle Little Star_ , with hand motions.

“Conan, grab his Stary-ness and let’s head out.”

Ronon though, looking not at all cooler, glared at Rodney, “We have a way out yet, because he’s heavy and it’s hot.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious. No, I don’t and yes, it is but unless you can suddenly get this thing to plot a way out.... no no no...”

In true Ronon problem solving, the Neanderthal had drawn his blaster and was pointing it at ... something. Teyla though had also whirled, her P-90 pointed at the shadows created by a trio of dancing pillars behind them. Belatedly, Rodney moved to cover Sheppard who was now singing in Farsii to the blue blue sky above, while Rodney stared at the patch of shadows.

“What, did you see something?”

“Yeah, Captain Oblivious,” Ronon grunted and Rodney laughed. “Oh, cute - you’ve been spending way too much time with Sheppard.”

The lieutenant colonel in question was humming and patting the pockets on Rodney’s BDUs, and being very distracting. However, whatever had alerted the super-senses duo was either deemed gone or inconsequential, as first Ronon and then Teyla lowered their weapons. “Wild imaginings or something we need to worry about?”

“Something we need to worry about, something quick.”

“And our day just gets better and better. I swear, we are cursed! Cursed!” Ronon solved the immediate problem of impending evisceration by mutant alien spiders by bodily manhandling Rodney around and shoving him forward, “We’re going this way.”

“So I see,” McKay grunted.

A rustle and crunch, as well as the sweet smell of chocolate alerted McKay to a theft in progress, nay complete and whirled to see Sheppard stuffing his face with his last powerbar, his last chocolate powerbar. “You!” Again, Ronon’s shove saved Sheppard and Rodney stalked forward, plotting revenge once Sheppard was compus mentas again and back in Atlantis. So ... maybe never.

They played follow the leader for another forty minutes, while Sheppard tortured them with a rendition of _Starry Starry Night_ , which in his defence was actually pretty good considering, and Ronon and Teyla played ‘jump at small movements and scare the pants off McKay every five minutes’. Rodney would have called them on being over reactive twits, but that was just asking for trouble and he didn’t need to know the rules of horror movies when he had years of Gate travel experience. It was almost the same set of rules.  When on strange alien worlds it was always a good idea to be paranoid about things trying to eat and or kill you, because they probably were.

It was forty minutes of frustrated back tracking as the pillars twisted and moved backwards and forwards in a pattern so close to being discernable but also so far incomprehensible. Just as Rodney thought he had a path through the moving columns, they should shift and they would all have to move quickly but never quick enough to actually reach a wall or clear path.

Teyla and Ronon were covering their six, eyes and guns focused on something only they could see. Sheppard was trailing Rodney’s coat tails, occasionally bumping into him but more often than not just being annoying in a limping fly sort of way.  It was a good sign that Sheppard kept waving off any offers for assistance, his limp slow and awkward. But he appeared to be aware that they all needed their hands free and he wasn’t complaining. Problem was, what he was saying made no sense. One hand occasionally clutched bruised ribs, and the other conducted an orchestra of invisible horns, judging by his humming.

There was definitely something following them, the scritch of movement on rock, quicker and more haphazard than the sound of slowly moving rocks. Claws or buggy legs, or something Rodney didn’t want to think about but heavens above he was.  And there was something definitely off with Sheppard. He’d been concussed often enough not to be behaving like this, and Rodney was suspecting alien technology. The maze hadn’t started moving until Sheppard had climbed a pillar.

“Would you please back off!” McKay whirled on Sheppard and took a sudden step back as Sheppard met him nose to nose, irate eyeball to befuddled eyeball. Ronon grunted in disapproval but it was Sheppard who said in a surprisingly clear voice, “Rodney, Steve Jobs totally ripped you off.”

It was instinctive to respond, even if it caught him completely off guard and well, Rodney’s brain was definitely big enough to follow the idiotic scrambled thought processes of John Sheppard, so he replied, “What? No. Apple paid an absolute fortune for the apps Zelenka and I created, we...”

Sheppard hushed him with a thoroughly dirty finger on his lips, and an eyebrow climb into ridiculous hairline of note. He stared at McKay as if willing Rodney to figure it out, make the leap, connect the dots. McKay glared but thought it through. Rotating maze. Sheppard acting like a starry eyed fool. Maze moving in concert and Sheppard singing about stars. Apple applications. Money. Stars. And then... if Rodney was a cartoon, he’d have a lightbulb glowing over his head right about now and Sheppard seemed to think so too, as he reached up and pulled the imaginary switch.

“Seriously?” Rodney exclaimed, pulling out his tablet once again, fingers flying across the touch pad interface.

“Seriously? McDreamy is totally, totally a beard,” Sheppard replied, watching the apps flying across the screen, biting his bottom lip.  

“I think you have that wrong way around,” Rodney muttered, but he’d found the app he was looking for. Tapping it one too many times and opening and closing it, he cursed and tapped again, getting it to open. It took a moment to load, more than a moment, as there no handy satellites drifting above them and Rodney had to enter the gate address first. Once the seven symbol address was in, an icon of a hamster in a wheel hovered in busy mode.

Teyla drifted over while McKay waited, looking over his shoulder. “Good news?”

Rodney nodded, “Yes, possibly. Sheppard reminded me about an application Zelenka and I wrote. It uses Gate addresses to plot the constellations above a selected planet. Granted, we sold Apple a much more derivative version that could plot the stars overhead, hardly rocket science, but it was a nice ‘in’ with those ‘geniuses’.” Rodney pursed his lips and shot Teyla a hopeful look, and said, “We however use the Ancient database star maps and deep space scans for our app. It’s supposed to allow us to plot addresses while off world, in case we need a quick dial out that’s not Atlantis or a world we want to keep safe. But then Mr Paranoid over there pointed out that without a MALP, we’d have no way of knowing if the new address was viable and not a space gate, so it was nixed but I still have it ...”

McKay trailed off both at Teyla’s considering stare and the results on the app. The constellations above PX-654i and directly above them appeared on the screen. It was actually quite an incredible piece of programming. The Ancients had mountains of space scans in the database and the app sorted through the most recent ones Atlantis ran automatically. Created nifty star maps. Plotted actual co-ordinates. But it wasn’t the impressive programming that made Rodney stare. It was the matching fixed points in the maze. His haphazard manual plotting of the few pillars not moving on their forced tour had actually paid off.

Pointing at the scanned ‘useless because it kept moving’ map of the maze, and the tablet screen, Rodney showed Teyla the matching points, “See, these are the constellations the gate uses to reach PX-654i. They match the few fixed pillars in the maze.”

Teyla nodded, “So, the maze is moving because...”

It was a big leap, but judging by the amount of pillars and their general uniform direction, it was a logical one. “It’s tracking the rest of the galaxy. As the planet rotates around its sun, the constellations overhead change and that’s everything else.” McKay waved a hand at the moving pillars in general disdain. “This maze is a primitive... no, actually, incredibly complicated tracking system. Its tracking .... something.”

“I thought you said it was tracking the movement of the galaxy?” Teyla prodded. McKay flapped a nonverbal ‘yes, yes’ and said, “But what is it tracking? I mean it’s impossible to track every star and nebulae or whatever. It’s only tracking a tiny tiny portion of the celestial bodies overhead.”

With the answer just at the edge of understanding, so close he could almost see it, McKay nearly swore when Ronon growled, “Where’s Sheppard?”

A flash of irate worry ran through McKay as his head snapped up. Teyla was turning on her heel, scanning the area. “What? He was just .... how does a concussed man disappear in five seconds flat? No, don’t answer that. It’s Sheppard so he probably disapparated.”

Ronon though, outdoorsman extraordinaire that he was, had picked up a stumbling trail and was running down a rapidly narrowing path, Teyla close on his heels. About to be left behind, Rodney clutched his tablet and ran after them, “Wait, what about...”

He only just made it, pushing through a closing gap between pillars, scraping material on rock, and had to dig deep to catch up, or risk losing the dynamic duo. Luckily Ronon and Teyla had to pause while a pillar rotated past them and nearly blocked the trail, and that allowed Rodney to catch up. Ronon had his blaster pointed ahead of him like it was an extension of his hand. There was that skittering sound again, and a flash of movement above them.  

Rodney caught a glimpse of legs and a segmented body and Ronon elected to purse Sheppard rather than fire. But the trail was gone, the pillars in this section moving a hell of a lot faster than the others. Flipping the LSD onto lifesign tracking mode, Rodney pointed in the general direction of a Sheppard sized lifesign and grimaced at the three or so smaller, flickering lifesigns that weren’t them. Teyla was silent and just urged Ronon on.

Only Sheppard. Only Sheppard.

Not caring if it was an unfair thought and that it wasn’t just Sheppard that seemed to have these sorts of adventures, but Rodney wasn’t in the mood to be fair. Ronon was off, running like the wind. Rodney groaned and took off as well.

The haze of dust and heat was coating them all in a layer of sticky dust and the whirling columns added to the confusion of trying to find Sheppard. They couldn’t hear the movement of overlarge bugs anymore, but Rodney was still getting glimpses of them on the LSD whenever he risked running into a rock to check it.

Left, right, left again and then back track, back track and Rodney’s chest was pounding, his throat coated with dust. They were close to Sheppard, but cut off, and Ronon was growling in frustration, as the shifting walls kept them apart. For one heart beat they caught a glimpse of Sheppard, a flash of black in a world of whirling dusty brown. Teyla and Ronon shouted but Sheppard remained still, staring up at something and then... gone. Obscured by a moving wall of rock.

They nearly missed it, nearly went left instead of right, but Teyla’s exclamation of, “Wait,” had them all turning with her and then, through the gap, into the oval clearing. Sheppard was in the middle, head tilted up, looking for all the world like he was listening to music only he could hear, which was entirely possible. And very much ignoring the overlarge bug approaching him.

Not exactly a centipede but that was the closest likeness Rodney could associate it with it. It was wary of them and hissed at their arrival. Ronon took a pot shot at it, wild, because Sheppard was in the way but it worked. The bug scampered off, an explosion of dust as it beat a hasty retreat. Teyla reached Sheppard first, turning him around, checking for injury.

His pupils were blown, and he was pale, sweating and shaky. The scrapes and cuts from his fall were crusty with dried blood and his lips were cracked from dehydration. But he had an innocent sort of smile like he knew something important and wasn’t planning on sharing. “John. Are you ok? Perhaps you should sit down,” Teyla said, pulling him towards shade, out of the sun, a paltry relief in the dusty furnace.

“Keys are bright and blue, Teyla. Like monkeys.”

“Ok, John. Ok.” He went willing with her and Rodney tried not to glare or shout at him, because he really was looking like crap, humming smiling crap, but crap nonetheless. Ronon, though was vibrating with suppressed anger, whirling around, watching their surroundings. “We got a way out yet, McKay?” He was worried, obviously, worried they didn’t have time to wait for Atlantis, that Sheppard didn’t have time.

Rodney nearly snapped in reply, nearly climbed into the irate Satedan but then remembered it was Ronon and that they were all worried and kinda exposed right now, so instead he said, “Sure, sure. Nearly got it.”

As exposed as they were to the elements, the clearing was kinda perfect in every other way. The setting sun was casting a long shadow that offered some relief. Ronon could see anything approaching and took a few more shots at bugs before they got the hint. And Rodney was able to lay out a better map of the maze and stars overhead and try match them.

Ronon and Rodney kinda ignored Teyla tending Sheppard, as she patiently listened to his ramblings, coaxed him into lying still, tried to soothe his scattered thoughts. Sheppard didn’t want to lay down, didn’t want to sit still. Wanted to stand and sing and move but was so wobbly and pale, he looked more like a ghost than a man. Teyla managed him get him sip some water, even if they were worried about internal bleeding.

While McKay squinted in the bright light (ugh, how could late afternoon be so bright) Teyla coaxed Sheppard out of his tac vest, again, and checked his ribs. She’d wrapped them tight before, but now she was checking his abdomen for the hardness of internal bleeding. Sheppard’s lean chest, pale in the sunlight and marked with trails of dark hair was mottled with dark bruises, and a few red abrasions. Ronon was looking everywhere but at Teyla and Sheppard, face blank. Done, Teyla nodded at Rodney, ‘so far, so good. No internal bleeding.’ It was now back to him, to figure it all out, find a way home.

McKay didn’t mean to take so long, and certainly had had no intention of becoming as impressed as he was. But as he sat, in an effort to convince Sheppard that sitting was a good idea, and matched points to constellations and pondered, he couldn’t help the litany of happy noises.

Eventually Ronon grew tired of growling and leering at bugs and Rodney and crouched down next to him. McKay pointed at the tablet. “It’s incredible. They were trying and I think they succeeded in developing a system of identifying incoming wormholes.”

“They?”

“Whoever built this and I’m guessing some sort of Ancients or folk using ancient tech,” Rodney replied. “The moving rocks currently trapping us are actually tracking real time movement of the constellations that might be used to dial PX-654.”

“So?” Ronon snapped and McKay rolled his eyes. “We have to use GDOs to figure out if friendlies are dialing our gate. Not everyone has a shield and these people used this canyon as a massive tracking system, so that when their Gate was dialled, they’d know where the incoming wormhole was coming from.”

Ronon sat in considered silence for a second, his long dreads sweeping his back and arms, dark with sweat. “Does it work?”

Snorting, Rodney shrugged, “No clue. But mountain goat Sheppard must have activated it... no, no, I take that back. It probably paused while our wormhole came in and only started up again once we’re inside and with Sheppard’s luck while he was on top of a pillar. But maybe it was his Ancient gene as well, who knows!”

“So, maybe a defense system as well?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Rodney agreed and looked up at Ronon. “I’ll probably be able to predict a path out in a few hours but my tablet doesn’t really have the memory for the kind of data we’re talking about. The reason it’s moving is because people are using Gates all over Pegasus and it’s trying to track that... somehow?”

“Or?”

“Or we wait for Atlantis to dial in ... in a few hours and hopefully I’m right and the maze will stop and we can get out.”

“Hopefully? I thought you were always right.” Ronon smiled, teeth white and wide and Rodney couldn’t help smiling back. “Shut up.” It wasn’t ideal, having to wait, but Sheppard didn’t seem to be worsening, or bleeding or in need of immediate medical attention. So it was waiting game now.

Ronon poked Rodney’s shoulder and motioned behind them. The sun was setting in a great ball of fire over the horizon. Time had slipped away from him as he got lost in the grace and beauty of a system built like Stonehenge but mimicking the sophisticated Ancient tech on Atlantis. The maze was still rotating in a slow spiral, matching the dance of stars and constellations around them in the galaxy. Sheppard and Teyla were dancing in time to a music only John could hear, arms locked in a classic pose, stepping in unison, back and forward. Their smooth, graceful rhythm matched the pillars odd timing and as John gently twirled Teyla, several pillars did their own whirl in synchronised symmetry.

It was kinda beautiful.

“You got your ePhone?”

“iPhone and no. But I do have a camera.”

Rodney pulled out his little camera, and flipped it to video mode and captured for posterity and maybe mocking, the dance of moving pillars and his team mates to the music of the galaxy.

Somehow Ronon built a fire out of thin air – ok, maybe something else, but hell if Rodney knew, and Teyla convinced Sheppard to sit down and eat. Sheppard kept on humming and smiling, and as night fell, he seemed less inclined to motion and more to humming. Ronon and Teyla shared a MRE, while Rodney wolfed down his favourite. Atlantis would dial in in about an hour. The sky overhead was incredible as it only could be off world with no artificial light other than their fire. It was both odd not to see the Milkway spirals and comforting to see Pegasus’s unique swathe of stars instead.  

Ronon was trying get John to eat and ended up eating more of the cold MRE than anything. Teyla was watching the stars with Sheppard and urging him periodically to pay attention to Ronon.

It was almost time, when the pillars stopped suddenly. The silence was breathtaking and in the stillness the light was almost audible. Cool blue burst into life as first one column, then the next, lit up like stop motion lights in a city. Blue column after blue column, a map of stars.

Rodney stood, face open and eyes glistening in the strange glow. “The Gate’s about to dial... now.”

Sure enough, as the Gate in the distance began to whirl, the glow in the canyon intensified and then gold streaks of light began connecting the blue pillars around then. When the incoming wormhole splashed through, the canyon was light up like Christmas and New Years Eve all in one.

“Incredible,” Teyla sighed.

“Yeah,” Rodney breathed, elated at the prospect of rescue, food and studying this place further.

“Second star to the right,” Sheppard added and surprisingly enough, it was Ronon who concluded. “Straight on, ‘til morning.”

Teyla and Rodney whirled at stare at him and in the dark it was difficult to judge if Ronon was embarrassed. He probably wasn’t. “Let’s go home, folks,” Rodney smiled and snagged his pack, tablet and MRE remains.

“Indeed.”

*sga*sga*

Fin

Prompt: Tridget wanted:

1\. Sheppard confused/disoriented (for whatever reason - illness/injury/drugged) while his team tries to get him home 

2\. Sheppard and McKay offworld - Sheppard sick or injured and McKay having to dredge up info he has learned from Ronon or Teyla over the years on natural remedies to look after him 

3\. John should be in the infirmary but is needed elsewhere and Carson has to patch him up and keep him going until the job is done

I hope this met your requirements in part Tridget. Rodney kinda took over, I think he was feeling very Napoleonic. J

  



End file.
